


Bored

by chvotic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Burglary, Comfort, Crimes & Criminals, Crying, Domestic Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Robbery, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16171910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chvotic/pseuds/chvotic
Summary: Peter wasn't listening. Because right in front of him was the store owner, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he began to sink to the ground. It seemed as though everything was happening in slow motion, the man's body disappearing behind the counter.And right in the middle of his forehead, was a bullet hole.Or, in which, Peter was bored until the unimaginable happens.





	Bored

**Author's Note:**

> this little angsty one shot is inspired by these two fanarts:  
> https://pin.it/6bjlwbggphydrt  
> https://pin.it/fvnidwtxj2jq3c
> 
> i’m not really sure if this is that good, but enjoy anyways!
> 
> this is also half edited so sorry for mistakes lol. i’m also posting this on my ipad since i don’t have access to my laptop rn.. so... let me know if there’s any mistakes!

It was safe to say that Peter was bored out of his mind.

It was a Sunday afternoon, the sun was shining and he was just bored. Patrol had been rather uneventful, and all he had done was help direct two young girls in the direction of the nearest park. So, you couldn't blame him for being bored to tears.

He was currently sat on the side of a building, legs swinging as he looked over Queens. He had considered calling Happy a few times, but he knew the man wouldn't want to hear from him. Despite how the man had been picking him up from school and taking him to the Compound to see Tony after the Vulture incident each Friday, he still didn't like to receive endless calls from Peter. So, Peter restrained himself to not sending one, and instead thought of ways he could annoy Happy the next time he picked him up from school. He couldn’t wait.

He also had Tony's private number, but he'd rather die than ramble on about useless things to Tony Stark on his private number. That’s what Happy was for.

Even though the man apparently listened to most of the voicemails he had left for Happy.

He pushed the embarrassment away, sighing and just hoping for something exciting to happen sooner or later. He had had one hell of a week at school, and he had been unable to patrol on the Saturday before. He had been excited, but now all that was left was just disappointment. 

"Hey Karen." He piped up, continuing to swing his legs back and forth, his heels hitting the brick wall every now and then. "Any crime for me to stop yet?"

"Sorry, Peter, there is no incidents that require your assistance."

"Damnit." Peter sighed, flopping back so he was laying down, staring up at the blue sky. "Not even an old lady needing directions?"

"No, sorry Peter."

He sighed once again, staring up at the sky through his mask. 

He had no idea how long he had been doing that for, staring at the sky, trying to make the clouds look like an animal or a person. He didn't want to go back to the apartment because May wasn't there, and she wouldn't be until late at night. Peter didn't want to go home to an empty apartment because he felt lonely, and somehow, when he was patrolling, he felt less alone.

But right now, his only emotion was boredom. God, where were all the criminals? 

He felt like he was at school, sitting at his desk, waiting for the bell to ring at the end of the day. He felt like he was listening to his teacher drone on about something he already knew, when really he was listening to the voices from the streets below him. He even heard some girls yell about his visible, swinging legs, excitedly muttering with each other about how Spider-Man was right there.

That made him a little happier.

They girls seemed to hang around for a solid ten minutes, as if they were waiting for him to come down. Maybe this would let off some of his boredom and entertain him for a while?

He sat up, peering over the edge of the building to spot the girls. There were three of them, and they were all looking up at him with wide and excited eyes. Without hesitation, he shot a web out to the next building and yanked himself over to it, landing with his hands and feet. He then scaled down the building, landing on the ground with a thud.

It was safe to say that he was mildly horrified when he saw the three girls running across the busy road, but when they got across safely, his worries were ceased. 

"Spider-Man! Spider-Man!" One of them shrieked, waving her phone around. "Can we please have a picture?"

"Of course!" Peter replied, trying to make his voice a little less high. He felt like if these girls knew how young he was, they wouldn't like him anymore. 

The three girls squealed, moving around him to get in position for a selfie. He put his arms around the two beside him, sticking up a peace sign for irony. The girl holding the phone did his web-shooter gesture, smiling big as she took at least ten photos. Each time, Peter did a different pose, wanting to make sure they got good pictures.

It was when the girls were moving away from him when Karen's voice exploded in his ear. "There is a robbery occurring a few streets away from you, Peter. I am aware there is firearms involved, I recommend you get there quickly." 

Excitement exploded in his chest. "Sorry girls, but duty calls!"

"Bye Spider-Man!" They all chirped, waving and sending him big grins. He waved, before shooting out a web. A map appeared in front of his eyes, Peter following the trail as he launched himself throughout the city. He enjoyed the rush of air as he swung between buildings, watching the little red dot as it got closer and closer.

When the place that was being robbed came into view, he let himself down onto the pavement just in front of the door. Through the window, he could faintly see three men hurrying around the drug store, shoving things into their backpacks. There was a forth standing by the counter, gun raised at the supposed store owner.

Without needing anymore time to survey the scene, he threw open the door and moved inside of the small drug store. "Hey guys."

Five heads whipped in his direction, including the terrified store owner. Peter eyed the gun in one of the men's hand, already formulating a plan to get it off of him. There was a moment of silence as they all looked at each other, Peter preparing himself. It was when one of the men went to speak he shot out the web, effortlessly yanking the thing away from the man and into a nearby wall, sticking layers upon layers over the firearm. Next, he launched himself over to the man who had been holding it, effectively kicking him in the chest and sending him careering onto the ground.

The groan the man let out satisfied Peter as he moved onto the next man, who was hurriedly trying to stuff his backpack with countless store items. Peter spared a glance in the direction of the cash register, his theories proven correct when he saw the empty till. He sighed, shooting out a web that stuck right onto the side of the man's backpack. His reactions were too slow, Peter yanking the backpack away and letting it's contents pour out onto the ground.

"Didn't school teach you that it's rude to steal things?" Peter spoke, grabbing the man with one of his webs and hurled him in the direction of a wall. Before he knew it, he was stuck, Peter already moving onto the third man.

Though, this man was smiling. Gross, yellow and chipped teeth were on show, Peter cringing behind his mask. "I think you need to see a dentist, man. Those teeth aren't looking too great."

"I'm not the one that's going to be looking too good." The man replied, his voice scratchy and low. Peter's senses began to buzz, and soon he was finding himself whirling around to the sound a gun. The fourth man, which must have somehow snuck past Peter without him realising, had another gun raised to the wide and teary-eyed cashier. 

"Alright, alright." Peter began to ramble, his stomach beginning to churn with nerves as he raised his hands in surrender (he wasn't giving up). "There's no need to get the guns out. Come on, man, why don't you shoot me instead?"

Peter already had the plan in his head, already getting ready to shoot his webs. 

"Now why would we do that?" The man behind him growled, though humour was in his tone. "That's hardly as exciting as watching Spider-Man fail."

Peter didn't need to hear anymore, already shooting his web at the man in front of him. The man flew away, the gun clattering onto the tiles as Peter sent him into a nearby shelf. The man he had thrown to the ground earlier was getting up, a sick smile on his face too. Peter felt his insides curl as he sent webs in his direction, immediately webbing the man to the floor, his face disappearing from view. Now, he just had to get rid of the fourth one.

Before he could turn around to do so, the sound of a gun cocking met his ears. His senses began to scream, alerting him of immediate oncoming danger. At the same time, there was a gunshot, Peter's eyes burning as he threw himself to the ground due to his senses. He looked up immediately, his heart stopping when he spotted the scene in front of him.

"Peter. Peter!" Karen was in his ear, her voice worried. "I need you to breath. You are prone to a panic attack."

Peter wasn't listening. Because right in front of him was the store owner, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he began to sink to the ground. It seemed as though everything was happening in slow motion, the man's body disappearing behind the counter. 

And right in the middle of his forehead, was a bullet hole.

Panic gripped Peter's heart in a vice, his breathing picking up incredibly as the image burned itself into his memories. He had gotten someone killed.

The man's manic laughter erupted behind him, the gun clattering onto the floor. Karen had been serious when she said they were armed, the men had three guns on them. He should have known. He should have prevented this. The bullet was aimed at him, not the poor cashier. This was all his fault. He failed.

Ignoring the oncoming panic attack for the moment, he whirled around and shot out his webs, grabbing the man by the ankles. He yanked, sending the man to the floor, his head smacking against one of the shelves behind him. He was out. Unconscious.

Peter heaved himself off of the floor, ignoring his rapidly beating heart and Karen's voice as he staggered over to the counter, peering over. He wanted to make sure it had actually happened, and that it wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him. He felt vomit bolt up his throat as he spotted the man, his dead eyes staring up at Peter as blood leaked out the hole in his forehead.

Peter stumbled backwards, vaguely aware of the man webbed to the wall watching his every move. He could hear sirens in the distance, alerting him that the police were on their way. He couldn't be here. He had to get out. He couldn't look at that dead man again. He couldn't look at the man he had gotten killed.

Peter ran.

He shot out a web once he was outside, hauling himself into the air as he did so. It felt like he merely blinked and he was there, on top of the same building, yanking off his mask and emptying his stomach's contents out onto the rooftop. Tears ran down his cheeks, panic beginning to take over as he lost the ability to breathe. 

He began to choke on sobs, his chest burning and lungs begging for air. He wanted to scream, but he no longer had the air to do so. 

He continued to heave, his arms beginning to shake as they held up his upper half. If he collapsed, he would land face-first into his own vomit. He pushed himself into a seated position, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapped his shaking arms around them. He buried his head in his knees, sobbing and trying to breath as he rocked himself back and forth, trying to give himself at least a little comfort.

This was all his fault. He had caused this.

Not even twenty minutes before, he had been complaining that he was bored. Never had he expected this was going to happen. Never.

He never expected that he was going to fail so, so terribly. He got a man killed. He got an innocent man killed.

He couldn't breathe.

He wheezed and coughed, refusing to move his head from his knees. He didn't know how long he was there, sobbing and gasping, unable to free himself of the terrifying panic attack. It was one of the worst ones he had ever had, and he knew it wasn't going to end soon. Would it ever end?

 

It was never going to end, because every time he almost got there, the man's dead eyes and red bullet hole would come back into his mind, and he would be sent back into the whole spiral. It was never going to end. He was never going to stop seeing the man's face. He was never going to be able to forget what just happened. 

It was during all of these thoughts when something thudded onto the roof next to him, Peter only just now hearing the sounds of the Iron Man suit.

This made Peter panic even more.

He didn't move, continuing his downward spiral into panic as he heard the suit opening, and then the footsteps. He didn't look up even when Tony was kneeled in front of him, his voice breaking through the roaring in his ears. "Peter?"

Peter couldn't answer, instead letting out a broken sob as a hand rested gently on his shoulder.

"Pete, I need you to breathe. You need to calm down, alright? Try copying my breathing." Peter could hear Tony's exaggerated breathes, and he really did try his best to copy them, but his brain kept reminding him of what he had done and what he had just seen. Oh, God, how was he supposed to tell Tony what had happened? Would the man take his suit again? Would he no longer be able to go the Compound every Friday? “Peter, come on kid, I need you to breathe.”

There were hands on both of his shoulders now, and Peter couldn’t help but lean into the touch. He could feel his chest open up a little from the contact, thought the panic still gripped his heart in a fist and refused to let him breathe normally. The face of the man would keep appearing in his mind, the gunshot wound prominent on his forehead. The more he saw it, the sicker he felt, and the more his lungs begged for air. Jesus Christ, was he going to pass out?

He leaned into Tony’s grip even further, dragging as much comfort out of him as possible. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Uncle Ben, when he would wake up from a nightmare as a kid he would do the same thing. Peter supposed he found comfort in human contact, but there was no way he was going to admit that to anyone, especially Tony Stark of all people.

So instead, he made himself as small as possible. Though, Tony seemed to notice what he was doing, because soon the hands were gone and Peter was left alone in his panic.

Assuming that Tony had left him, he felt his sobs increase along with the tears. He could hear the man moving, and Peter was so sure that he was standing up so he could turn around and leave. Instead, he felt legs move around both sides of his curled up form and arms around his shoulders. Peter barely had anytime to comprehend what was happening before he was pressed against Tony’s chest, the man’s head resting on top of his own.

With Tony’s body surrounding him, he felt himself calming down. He forced the thoughts of the dead man away from his mind, pressing himself impossibly closer to his mentor and father figure as he did so, forcing his erratic breathing to calm down. “That’s it, Petey, you’re doing great.”

Tony was going to take his suit, wasn’t he?

“That’s it. Breathe.”

Tony wouldn’t want to know someone like Peter anymore.

“You’re fine.”

Could he even go out as Spider-Man anymore even if Tony didn’t keep the suit?

“Good. That’s good.”

It fell silent for a few minutes, Peter not moving from his tightly curled up position, even though it was beginning to hurt. Peter couldn’t face Tony ever again after that, and he was only now just beginning to realise the position they were in. Peter knew Tony wasn’t big on physical contact, he figured that out in the car after fighting the Avengers. He didn’t think they were there yet.

With these thoughts accompanying the ones about the shooting, Peter tried to push Tony away. He would never forgive himself if he was making Tony uncomfortable, and he would surely be losing the suit now. Not only did he get a man killed while on patrol, when he was meant to help them, but Tony Stark had come here during his most likely busy day to calm down his sobbing self.

He was a terrible person.

He unwrapped himself slightly to push Tony away, the broken sobs coming back as he did so. He didn’t want to push Tony away, but he didn’t want to make his mentoe uncomfortable at the same time.

“Hey, hey, kid, what are you doing?” Tony asked, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around Peter. Peter gave up as fast as he had started, collapsing back into his mentor’s chest with a defeated cry. Why was Tony doing this? Why was he comforting a killer? “Alright, kiddie, I need you to look at me. Can you do that?”

Peter couldn’t. He really couldn’t. But this was Tony Stark, the man he had begun to thought of as a father figure, the man who had given him his upgraded Spider-Man suit, the man who had given him so much. Even a father. How would that man react when he knew what Peter had done? Shit, how would May react? Ned? MJ?

He only looked up because of the finger that had somehow found it’s way under his chin, gently raising his head out of his knees. Peter kept his eyes closed, not wanting to face Tony. He had failed, he had gotten someone killed, and Tony would no longer want to have him around because of that. He knew it.

“Kiddie, open your eyes.” Peter inhaled a shaky breath before slowly blinking them open, blinking against the harsh light as a waterfall of tears leaked from his eyes. Tony’s face was blurry in front of him, and he didn’t want to blink his eyes clear. He didn’t want to see the disappointment on his mentor’s face. He flinched when Tony began wiping his tears away, his entire body shaking as the man sighed. His eyes finally cleared, despite him not wanting them to, and nothing could have prepared him for the look on Tony’s face. “There you go.”

There was sympathy in his expression. Once he found out what Peter had done, there would be no sympathy there. He had failed, he had failed a job that had no room for failure. How could he have not known that man had a third gun hidden away? He should have looked harder. He should have made sure he had all firearms secure before rambling with the burglar. 

“Pete, I know what happened. Karen played me the footage.”

Peter froze. 

_No. No, no, no, no._

Peter waited for the sympathy to leave his mentor’s expression, but it never did. “I-I’m s-sorry T-Tony.”

Peter had never called Tony by his first name. It had always been Mr. Stark. If he wasn’t screwed before, he was now, and all he could do was cry harder and try to push his mentor away. He tried to push him away because he didn’t deserve him. He didn’t deserve to have such an amazing father figure in his life after Uncle Ben.

“No. Don’t start with that, Peter.” He made Tony angry. He had gotten a man killed and Tony wanted to take his suit. “It’s not-”

“I u-understand M-Mr S-Stark, if y-you want to take m-my suit...” Peter trailed off in the end, trying to avoid eye contact. He just couldn’t stop crying. “I’m s-sorry.”

Peter dared to look at Tony’s expression. He was shocked into complete silence when he saw the misty look in Tony’s eyes, confusion momentarily interrupting the shame and panic. Was Tony about to cry? He had never seen Tony cry, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. This just made his chest clench once again, the remains of the panic attack bursting into action as he tried to look away. He hated that he was the one that caused Tony’s almost-tears, shame once again making a reappearance as Tony held his face and continued to wipe away his tears.

“I’m not going to take your suit. I don’t know why you would think that.” Tony sighed, looking away from Peter for a few seconds before looking back. “This isn’t like last time.”

Last time. When Peter almost caused the destruction of the ferry. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Tony’s hold around him tightened, his misty eyes staring into Peter’s. “What happened.. it’s.. it’s terrifying. This isn’t your fault, Pete, you didn’t know this was going to happen. No one is blaming you.”

“But if I h-hadn’t have d-ducked-”

“No. Peter. Don’t even go there, I swear to God. If you hadn’t have ducked, you would be the one with a bullet in his head and I cannot handle that right now.” Peter was once again shocked into silence from Tony’s interruption, feeling the tears coming once again at full force. “Please don’t blame this on yourself. It isn’t your fault. It was that yellow-teethed douchebag’s fault, you were just trying to help. That’s what Spider-Man does, right?”

Peter nodded, squeezing his arms tighter around his legs despite the slight ache. “B-but-”

“No but’s.” Tony interrupted once again, wiping away some more of Peter’s tears. “It’s over now. It happened. There’s nothing we can do now, and there is nothing you could have done then. You didn’t know.”

Peter just nodded, the image of the man’s face returning to his mind. The bullet hole, the way the blood leaked out of it and into a puddle on the tiled floor. The way the man’s eyes stared up at him, unmoving, almost telling him that he could have done better. The man’s sickly smile, as if he knew exactly this would happen, as if he knew that Spider-Man would turn up and try and save the day like he always did. But seeing the bullet hole in the man’s forehead... he would never get that out.

“I’m not mad at you.” Tony spoke up, pulling Peter out of his traumatic thoughts. “I’m not taking away your suit. I’m just glad you’re alive, kid, I don’t know what I would have done if it was you. If you hadn’t have ducked...”

Peter didn’t want to to about that anymore. He didn’t want to think about any of it.

He fell forwards, pressing his face into Tony’s shoulder as the man kept his arms firmly wrapped around him. He felt Tony’s chin on the top of his head, which was way more comforting than Peter would ever expect it to be. “Jesus Christ, Peter, if you died...”

Peter didn’t want him to finish that sentence. 

After the whole Vulture and plane incident, they had become closer than before. Tony let him come to the lab every Friday to either upgrade his suits or even just watch movies. But never had something like this happened, snd never had Tony been so close to him. They hadn’t even hugged yet, and here Peter was sobbing on his shoulder after getting a man killed when he was trying to save him.

“I love you.” Peter mumbled, only realising what he said a few seconds after. He felt Tony tense, Peter immediately going to move away because he had fucked up, yet again. But he found he couldn’t move an inch with his normal human strength, Tony holding onto him so tightly that he would have to use his powers to get away. 

It was Peter’s turn to freeze when he felt the kiss to the top of his head. “I love you too, kid. Don’t you forget it.”

Peter pushed away a little to free his arms, before wrapping them around Tony’s middle and burying his face even further into his shoulder. He was still crying, he hadn’t stopped since he’d seen the man dead in the drug store. He wasn’t sure if he would ever, ever forget that image, and he knew it was going to be haunting him for a long time.

He wasn’t sure if things were ever going to get better after this day, but he had Tony, and he also had May, Ned, and maybe even Michelle. If he told them, that was.

He didn’t know how long they were up there, hugging on the roof like the world didn’t exist. He didn’t really remember Tony carrying him back to the Compound with his suit, and he didn’t really remember ending up on the couch, curled up beside Tony as he played Star Wars.

He knew things weren’t going to be good for a while.

He knew he would never forget what happened.

But when he had everyone in his life that loved him, maybe he would be able to get through it.

Just maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to leave some feedback, it is greatly appreciated <333
> 
> and if you like, you can comment some tony & peter prompts! i’ve been having a little trouble with thinking of ideas for stories/one shots, so if there’s anything anyone would want me to write, comment away!


End file.
